#They're all so beautiful together

[tampire]

Knight Soulmates Good Omens / Nimona

[fexjam]

Husbands...

[cicerfics]

Having one of those days where I'm just CONSUMED by the complexity of the relationship between Bond and M???

She's his mom. She's his boss. She's his handler. She's his pimp. She's his safe port in a storm. She's a woman he'd gladly kill and die for. She may have to order his death someday and they both know it.

Like??? What even IS that? What do you DO with that? What do EITHER of them do with that?

And for M?

He's her son. He's her employee. He's an operative designed to be used on the dirtiest jobs imaginable and ordered into the worst kinds of danger.

She'll turn a blind eye when he directly contradicts MI6's orders. She'll pretend she 'lost track' of him and let him slip away when there's an active capture-or-kill order out on him...with her own signature on the paperwork.

She's sentimental about him. She will forge the results to his re-qualifying exams because she knows England needs him, and she knows he needs the job or he'll have no reason to continue living.

She still gave the order to Moneypenny to 'take the bloody shot'. The outcome still broke her heart. She would still do the same thing all over again, if she thought she had to. He is still the person she wants holding her hand as she takes her last breath.

WHAT EVEN ARE THEY. WHO IS DOING IT LIKE THEM!!!

[flowerakatsuka]

gay ppl @ a summer festival, what will they do??

[hjarta]

the video of charli and lorde dancing together at the club to their remix is genuinely making me so emotional. love to see two women dancing together to a vulnerable song they made together

[kazumahashimoto]

VACAY ALL DAY BABY!!!!!!!

[oyeixcher]

[dykespence]

Imagine being carla connor and you just got in bed with the woman you've had an absolute massive crush on for ages now and then you're IMMEDIATELY turned down and it's like an actual sucker punch to the gut and then you're just thawcked over the head girl cannot just catch a break ??

[breadmecoshy]

The beautiful Lady Marissa in hollow knight

The most beautiful and peaceful memory in the game is associated with her wonderful song

And, yes, I'm going through the game for the fifth time хD

This time, my thoughts turned to Marissa, because even after so many walkthroughs, her song and look fascinate me

This is a portrait that Lurien drew for Marissa shortly before becoming a Dreamer. As a last gift and thanks for all she does for the city, and still can, to spend the last quiet moments together before the eternal goodbye

I think she and Lurien were close friends, and he liked to draw quick sketches during her concerts. Perhaps he would have liked to portray her one last time as bright and cheerful as she usually was, but her beloved city and its people were already slowly dying, and a good friend was sacrificing his life for some higher purpose, so she just couldn't portray joy, and she didn't want Lurien's last portrait to be fake

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[zellkabellk]

Re-listening to LoZ : Twilight's Princess OST and damn it really makes me want to replay the game ;;;;;; ToTK Zelda may have sneaked her way into 'my top 3 fav Zeldas' but TP Zelda is still definitely in there too... (the third one is Tetra fdmksjhgkj)

[m-for-now]

Something that I feel like I should emphasize again about my type of shipping is that I care so much more for the dynamic and depth of a relationship than wether it's romantic or platonic or queer-platonic or some other kind of connection.

Give me the actual interactions and parallels and dynamic and i'm in

[spacebubblehomebase]

"Red is the color of a rose, our love, your hair, and my heart. Red is the color of HER. Your painted lips. My work of art." 👩‍❤️‍👩 Nothing to see here! Just girls thinking of girls. ✨️ Can't believe it took me THIS long to realize I haven't drawn these two baddies. Besties who kiss AND tell, but it's just as well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Hope ya like this little doodle of mine, sis! 💕 -Bubbly💙

#spacebubblearts #myart #fanart #doodle #birthday #pamelaisley #harleyquinn #poisonivy #birdsofprey #dc #dcu #girlfriends #lesbians #bisexuality #comics #villains #antiheroes #red #harlivy #coloring #roses #hearts #gotham #batman #batfamily #canon #lgbt #couple

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

[kyouka-supremacy]

The culturally accurate Mikus is the best thing to have happened on the internet ever since Goncharov

[tragedy-for-sale]

Left Me with You

Anakin hated when he took away Obi-Wan's happiness, even if it was just pretend.

Sad Obi-Wan is just my favorite thing to write. Apparently. This fic is kinda long and is already up on my Ao3.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

It wasn't often that Obi-Wan and Anakin got to go on meditative retreat together. But even then, as Obi-Wan sat in the field, eyes closed and legs crossed, he could feel it within him, Anakin would be happier if he wasn't here. Obi-Wan opened his eyes, brows furrowed and a concerned frown. He wished he could talk to Anakin about it, but talking wasn't something they did. Obi-Wan wondered of all Anakin would say, if he could speak openly of his love, Obi-Wan smiled at the thought of Anakin, the sparkle of love in his eyes. The sparkle of life. But that smile didn't last long, Anakin would never tell him all about his love, and Obi-Wan would never ask. He wouldn't ruin Anakin's happiness, it was such a rare thing, and Obi-Wan never wanted Anakin to go without it, not if he didn't have to.

Obi-Wan stood up, wrapping his robe around him as he started back to the small vacation home Padme had so graciously allowed them to stay in. He walked among the wildflowers, but he didn't stop to pick a few. They were beautiful, but the moment he touched them, the moment he plucked them from their home, they would die, the moment Obi-Wan touched those beautiful flowers, they would die. So he kept walking, he let them live, he would not touch them, and he would live because Obi-Wan didn't go anywhere near them.

Reaching the house, he took off his sandals and walked into the kitchen. He looked on the counter and saw a vase. Obi-Wan felt as if he'd been struck, those flowers, those beautiful flowers that Obi-Wan had been so tempted to kneel down beside, to take in the smell of spring, to pluck them from their home for his own selfish desires. Those beautiful flowers were impossible not to notice, and now they were on full display as they died- "Hey Obi-Wan," it was Anakin's voice, but Obi-Wan could not stop the ringing in his head long enough to focus, "-picked the flowers-" The sound of flickering embers. "-They're really nice, they smell really good-" he would've led such a meaningful life. "Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan looked up, he found Anakin, "Oh, Anakin," a familiar smile found its way to Obi-Wan's face as he walked over and smelled the flowers, 'I'm so sorry, Master-' he closed his eyes, the smell of spring, early morning rainfall and late night firefly catching. He opened his eyes, "How was the lake?"

Anakin's own smile flickered on his face, but if Obi-Wan didn't want to talk, they wouldn't. Talking wasn't something they did. "It was nice, Master." Anakin remembered fondly, "The water was cool but in the sun," Anakin chuckled, "Man, I almost fell asleep, that's why I came back," Anakin opened the fridge with the intention of finding a snack but he couldn't help his thoughts wandering and lingering on Obi-Wan. Even though they hadn't even been remotely close, Anakin could sense his Master's sorrow. He'd worried about this. He hadn't wanted Obi-Wan to come to Naboo, Anakin had asked Obi-Wan if he'd want to go somewhere else, anywhere else but here. Anakin could sense it since the moment they arrived, Obi-Wan would be happier if he wasn't here.

"Master," Anakin's voice seemed on edge, it certainly caught Obi-Wan's attention, for Anakin could sense Obi-Wan straightening up and crossing his arms. Prepared to ricochet any shots.

"Yes, Anakin?" But his voice was soft, giving nothing away, not his fear, not his anger, not his sorrow. Obi-Wan was always so good at pretending, but Anakin knew that for all of Obi-Wan's confidence, he didn't really mean it.

"We're still gonna be here in four days," Anakin could dance around the point, that was how it worked. Neither one of them dared to look the other in the eye, for both were far too afraid to address all the damage they'd done to the other.

"Yes, we are," Obi-Wan nodded, walking over to the cabinet and looking at the tea. He was so good at that. "Do you want a cup of tea?" He wasn't going to give in, he couldn't.

Anakin nodded, maybe he should drop it, but how could he ignore Obi-Wan's trembling hands? "Master," Anakin said again, Obi-Wan turned, that knowing smile on his face. "It'll be twelve years..."

Obi-Wan felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, the mug became impossibly heavy he could only put it down. His stomach twisted in knots as he struggled to turn to meet Anakin's gaze, "Yes," He mustered out, but his voice trembled. Every year, from the first year to today, Obi-Wan was never any better, he never missed Qui-Gon any less. Obi-Wan resigned, bowing his head, looking down at the counter, "Why do you bring it up?"

Anakin might as well of gut punched Obi-Wan then and there, that would hurt less. He looked at his master, hunched over, fists clenched Anakin could see the white of his knuckles, stray hairs hiding his face and his shoulders tense. He shouldn't have said anything. They didn't talk about things like this, this was why, Anakin. "-When I lost my mother," Anakin's throat went dry, he found it so hard to speak. "When she died-" he looked away, "I can't remember what she sounds like," Anakin wanted to laugh, if only to show Obi-Wan he was okay. "I don't remember her laugh or that song she'd sing while doing laundry, even though she sang it every time she did the-" Anakin hung his head, oh- Oh. What had he done?

Obi-Wan looked up through his hair, he looked terribly alone. "Anakin..." Obi-Wan walked over to Anakin, reaching out his hand, but Anakin remembered the point of all this pain.

"-I still think about my mother, so I know you still think of Qui-Gon." Anakin's voice was quiet, but Obi-Wan heard, like blaster fire, it was all he could hear, it was deafening.

It might've taken Anakin losing his own mother to realize the root of all those tears Obi-Wan cried. He remembered those first few weeks, Obi-Wan was sad all the time, he'd cry after he'd put Anakin to bed, he'd cry after meetings with the council, he'd cry, hand covering his mouth as he realized he was really pathetic. To still not be alright, to still be crying months after. To always be sad. Anakin knew now, Obi-Wan felt like a scared little kid, so he'd cry, he'd cry and cry hoping Qui-Gon would come to tell him not to be afraid, to sing a lullaby and silly songs while doing laundry. But he never came and one day Obi-Wan stopped crying, he didn't cry after a hard mission, not a tear after remembrance ceremonies, not even watery eyes after being told 'you're so much like your master.' Obi-Wan didn't cry, but he cut his hair, meditated on sleepless nights, held his lightsaber to stop his shaking hands. But he did not cry, he did not cry. He would not cry, not in front of Anakin, not in front of anyone. Not anymore.

The tears stopped but the pain never did. It was only a few short years ago Obi-Wan decided he would never cry in front of Anakin and up until now Obi-Wan stood by his vow. But here, right now, Anakin knew him completely, all his pathetic pain and sorrow. His infinite sadness and self-effacing jokes. He'd never let anyone know how sad he would always be, certainly not. But he couldn't hide his water-colored eyes from Anakin, even though they didn't talk, of course he knew. Obi-Wan's voice trembled and all the strength and poise he'd so carefully crafted fell apart. Obi-Wan felt his eyes water, "Oh, Anakin," his voice cracked, "I'm so sorry-" Obi-Wan shook his head, he couldn't look at Anakin, not after the face he made. Oh, Anakin's face. All of Obi-Wan's pain fell into embarrassment, he couldn't pull himself together, and he was so sorry that he couldn't. "I'm sorry, Anakin, for all of this-" for all of me-

Anakin felt everything within him stop, he couldn't think, he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, Obi-Wan hadn't cried in so long- and all it took was Anakin to open his damned mouth to change that. "Please don't cry, Master, please Obi-Wan-" Anakin looked down, voice trembling, all he could do was beg, "I hate it when you cry-" He really did, he hated not being listened to, being talked over and feeling powerless, but what he hated most, more than his own pain and frustration, what seeing that frustration in those he loved. He hated when Padme worked really hard on a speech to not be heard at all, when Ahsoka cried because she missed her friends, when Rex lost a brother. Anakin hated that he couldn't take their pain away, and most of all, he hated that Obi-Wan was sad, he hated that nothing would ever make him truly happy, Anakin hated he couldn't do anything to ease his pain, he hated when Obi-Wan cried because he became powerless, Anakin was a little kid all over again, unable to think because, like his mother, there was nothing he could do to make her tears stop, there was nothing he could do to make Obi-Wan's tears stop.

Obi-Wan wiped his eyes, his forced smile was so similar to his real one, if Anakin didn't know Obi-Wan, he wouldn't know the difference. How many people didn't know the difference? "Anakin, I do apologize," Obi-Wan took a deep breath, pulling himself back in, shoving all this pain down. He came over to Anakin and pulled his former padawan into a hug, "I'm alright, we'll be alright." His voice was so assuring, so knowing, so void of all his suffering. There it was, that holy resignation. Obi-Wan forgetting himself for the sake of others around him, there it was, his unrequiting selflessness.

Anakin held him tightly, just for a moment as he was safe in his master's arms, he felt a wave of grief sweep him out to sea, his feet swept out beneath him; Anakin was so afraid to let go of Obi-Wan, for he'd surely drown, "I miss my mom-" he'd never admit this, not now anyway, but he'd let himself remember his mother's smile, that soft glow in her eyes, the lines of age framing her eternal beauty, he could almost hear her now, "I still feel like a little kid without her-"

Obi-Wan would not let go until Anakin was ready, and when he was, Anakin wiped his eyes, stepping back into the man he'd grown into, a man without a mother. He looked down at Obi-Wan and he didn't see his Master, he saw a man without a father. It was just the two of them as they were, true Jedi: without a mother, without a father. Their family was the Jedi, but to consider the Jedi their family would be forming an attachment, would it not? Obi-Wan had long pondered that, late into sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling. If he was supposed to be ever compassionate, ever loving; if he was raised to love through love, it was rather hard to not become lost in feelings of attachment. "... That never really goes away." Obi-Wan whispered, he still felt like a padawan, he always wished Qui-Gon was still here, that Obi-Wan was still a son. But he wasn't, and Obi-Wan wasn't.

Anakin held his master tight, but not out of his own sorrow, what about Obi-Wan? Anakin remembered council meetings, the two watched by all of their ever-caring stares, all debating Anakin's future with the Jedi, but what about Obi-Wan? If they ever asked about his well-being, Anakin would never know if, in those early days, they made Obi-Wan feel worse by questioning his ability to do this on his own. "Master," Anakin pulled out of their hug, Obi-Wan was all put back together again, with tape and glue, "You don't have to pretend you're alright, not with me."

Obi-Wan's smile flickered, that sadness flooding back into his eyes, "Anakin," Obi-Wan looked down, he almost wanted to laugh, "Oh, you've grown up, haven't you?" He saw Anakin's smile, too bad it was born from sorrow, "You've become the Jedi I always dreamed you would be."

"-And you've become the Jedi Qui-Gon always dreamed you would be-" Anakin put his hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, he didn't need to be told, but perhaps it was a nice reminder, "Qui-Gon would be proud of the man you've grown into, Master, you are an honorable Jedi, and a good master, even if at times I didn't think so." This time Anakin laughed, and Obi-Wan almost did too. There was a moment, Obi-Wan had fallen into his thoughts but Anakin's voice brought him back, "What I'm saying, is that it's okay to tell me that you miss him," It's okay if you tell me that you cut your hair after I told you that you looked like him; It's alright if you tell me you hold onto your lightsaber because it makes you feel safe; It's okay if you tell me you meditate instead of sleeping because you only have nightmares of that day; It's okay if you tell me you cry when there's no one around because you want everyone to think you're okay now. "It's okay for you to miss him, Obi-Wan, I know how much you loved him-"

Anakin watched Obi-Wan's eyes flicker, perhaps with surprise, perhaps embarrassment, as if loving the man who raised you as his own was something to be ashamed of. As if mourning Qui-Gon like Anakin mourned his mother was wrong. Anakin put a reassuring hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, sensing the cracks in his master's facade, "It's alright.... If you tell me that you loved him-" Anakin whispered.

Obi-Wan looked up, taking a deep breath, he looked up at his padawan, oh, when did he grow up? He was far beyond that little boy on Tatooine, Anakin had grown up into a Jedi Knight, and now they served together not as master and apprentice, but side by side as Jedi Knights. Obi-Wan blinked and Anakin wasn't scared to let go of Obi-Wan's hand, he wasn't heading to the padawan dining hall, he wasn't practicing his form. No, Obi-Wan blinked and Anakin was putting himself in the line of fire to protect others, bringing meals to Obi-Wan's chambers so they can eat together, making form videos for Ahsoka, Obi-Wan had trained him as best as he was able, and somewhere in the last twelve years, Anakin grew up. Obi-Wan had a sorrowful realization from such a miraculous thing, Anakin had grown up. They worked alongside each other as Jedi Knights, and now Obi-Wan had what he dreamed of, he had what he always wanted, what Qui-Gon always wanted.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

The problem is that you're not the Jedi you should be, you're not the Jedi your master wanted and trained you to be, you're a Jedi Master, member of the Jedi Council, but really, you're still just a padawan whose master died, and you never got over it.